


Regrets

by snazzyjazz (orphan_account)



Series: Regrets [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 21:01:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2555534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/snazzyjazz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you don't ship Amy and Eleven as a real relationship, please don't read as I don't want to offend anyone. Pure smut between The Doctor and Amy. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Regrets

Regrets

I'm Amy. I'm 21, Scottish, red haired and engaged to Rory Williams. I rarely drink alcohol unless it's fruity, I like to go to parties with Rory and go shopping. I want to have two boys and a little girl and a giant schnauzer with Rory someday. Tomorrow is my wedding day. I will be officially Mrs. Amy Williams. Oh yes, one other thing. I'm the Doctor's secret guilty pleasure, and he's mine. 

 

)(

Ever since Amy and I started sleeping together, she's been smiling brighter, I've been feeling happier and we've been hugging tighter. Her hug alone makes me feel all shivery-wivery, and makes things happen down there. She's engaged, to my other best friend besides her. Rory Williams is the greatest boy I've ever met, and he really does deserve her. The fact that she doesn't love me alone is enough to make me want to leave for good. I'll never have her to myself. It will have to end, and soon too. 

)(

Rory is the most amazing man on the planet. Well, most of the time. Unless the Doctor is on earth. And even then, Rory still gets second place. Rory is brave, and kind, and gentle, sweet, strong, defensive, loving, and sexy beyond belief. He would be the perfect person if it weren't for the Doctor. 

The Doctor is everything Rory is, with a time traveling box and a bow tie. Of course, I still love Rory with all my heart, and I'm marrying him tomorrow. Me and the Doctor are a temporary desperate love. Rory and I have a deep-rooted, forever and always type of love. Much more serious and beautiful. 

My phone rings, and my heart begins to beat faster. 

"Amy! Hello," I hear the Doctor's voice when I answer. 

"Doctor," I say softly. "Are you coming?"

"Yes. Well, that is, if nobody's home right now."

"No. I'm alone." I tuck my hair back. "Can you give me half an hour?"

"I'll be thinking of you, pretty girl." He says, trying his best to flirt. 

"And me you, pretty boy."

I hear him laugh as he hangs up. 

In thirty minutes, I shower, do my hair, put on lingerie and a thin top, and hunt down the cherry flavored lube he loves to use when he eats me out. I can feel my crotch clenching whenever I think of the things we've done together. We've done every position I could find on the internet, bondage for both of us, 69, we never know what will happen when he comes over. I'm always prepared for anything. 

In exactly half an hour, I hear the TARDIS landing upstairs. He comes out with his hands extended, barely shutting the door behind him. I run into his arms, jumping into his grip and wrapping my legs around him. He wastes no time in going in for a kiss. I succumb readily, trying not to think about the fact that I'm not kissing my future husband but a time traveling maniac. 

In this position, I can feel him as he starts to harden. The fact that he gets so turned on at just kissing, kissing ME, makes me feel so special. Like he's so attracted to me that it takes nothing for him to get hard. 

"Amy," he pulls back and leans his forehead against mine with eyes squeezed shut. "I don't want to play around tonight. No teasing. I just want to take you."

Nodding eagerly, I let go of him and we run upstairs to my bedroom. He finds the cherry lube and wiggles it in his hand at me, a childish smile tugging his mouth as we both rehash fond memories with that stuff. 

Suddenly he jumps onto the bed, letting himself bounce as he watches me undress. I pretend that I'm on a beautifully lit stage, wearing expensive lingerie from designer brands, stripping for rich men drinking nice wine. And I imagine the Doctor right up front with a raging boner shoving through his pants, tenting obviously as he ogles me, thinking about when he would take me home that night. 

I look down and realize I'm naked. The Doctor's hands rest on my bare hips, rubbing appreciatively with his thumbs. He's down to his boxers and a tshirt. I hum and kneel on top of him, grinding on him through his pants and kissing him until he's lying back on the bed, stretched out for my touch. 

"Amy, please." He says quietly, squeezing my hips and controlling their motion to pleasure himself. I remember his desperate plea for no teasing tonight and debate whether to do it or not. 

I decide not to, not today. He is so hard it has to be painful, especially trapped in his boxers like that. He really needs to come. And I respect that; I have days when all I need is to release. It's torture. 

I grind for only a moment longer, watching him twitch and moan under me. It really is a beautiful sight. Then I pull him up by the fabric of his shirt into a sitting position. He helps me yank his pants off, freeing his hard-on. With one careful movement, I move in so his face is to my chest and lower myself onto him. He pierces me with the usual beautiful heat as I sink down, pressing my ass into his thighs. 

)(

I almost drop backwards onto Amy's bed at the delicious slick friction on my penis. My hands are free to roam freely over her back, backside and chest. Her head tips back, splaying fiery red hair over her shoulders and letting out a beautiful, womanly moan. 

She's no longer my little Amelia, and every time we sleep together I'm reminded. She's mature and perfect and quite constantly desirous for me. I really can't imagine why, this face isn't the best I've had. But she seems to love it. And every other bit of me. 

Her hips constantly drive me mad, when I'm penetrated deep in her and she's rocking them or when she's walking or running and I watch them sway elegantly with her gait. They're quite fun to touch, too. Creamy and soft, with a tan line cutting sharply across. She seems to enjoy my touch. 

Her hands travel up into my hair, pushing sweaty fringe into my eyes. I try to flip it backwards. It doesn't work. So I try to ignore it. But when I can't see her face contorted with pleasure that I'm giving her, sex isn't as much fun. 

I halt her in her smooth thrusting and push my hair out of my face. Then I slide a hand to her breast and the other around the small of her back, and she grips my hair tightly as she begins pursuing her orgasm. Her thrusts become more frenzied and desperate, her whole body becoming tense and tight around me as she comes, letting out a long, lingering whine. 

I hold her still against me to recover, though every inch of me is begging me to flip her over and drill into her until we both come with screams that would fly through time and space forever. But I don't, though I know she'd be able to handle it. I've done it before. But tonight is more intimate then just rough, desperate sex. We both know it may be the last time. 

"I love you," she whimpers as she comes down and slumps against me. My fingers find her clit next to where we're joined. 

"Are you ready?" I ask. 

She reaches down and pushes my hand out of the way, rubbing her sensitive nub with reckless abandon. She's quickly on edge again and I drive her through another whimpering, sobbing orgasm. By now my penis has about had enough. I can't take it anymore. I apologize softly as I flip her over so her back is on the bed and find her opening with two fingers, sliding my dick in carefully. She flinches and almost pulls away. She's still sensitive. But my mind is wild and needy for release. 

With every deep thrust, I whisper an apology in her ear. I can feel her whimpering in pain under me and I will myself to stop, but the lust has taken over. Each thrust harder than the last, I chase my orgasm right up to the edge. I whimper another "I'm so sorry" as I pound in again. Her fingernails dig into my side from the pain, adding to the sensation until burning beauty consumes my soul, ravaging me from the inside out. I hardly hear myself howl as I come, hips crashing, delicious, beautiful friction, and all too abruptly then it's over and I collapse onto her, hot with heavy breath. 

She kisses my nose, and I close my eyes to find a thing of my nightmares waiting there behind my eyelids. 

It's a scene of little redhead Amelia, my dear, sweet, spunky Scottish girl-child. The girl who waited too long. Her eight year old naked body is bruised and streaked with strings of my come,with blood running down her inner thighs. Her cheeks are stained with tears as she pulls against the ropes tying her to her little twin sized bed. The gag in her mouth makes me flinch and want to rip it away. She's being tortured. I open my eyes and vow not to close them again. Every night, the sight of a broken, damaged Amelia shows up in my dreams, reminding me that she and Amy were the same girl. And how much I would have hurt my Amelia if I'd done what Amy and I do, but to her. 

I pull Amy close, kissing her face and hair, running my hand over her side carefully. Her hair is fanned over her pillow, her eyes admiringly staring at me. I try to smile. 

"Amy, I- I'm so sorry."

She shifts a little closer and leans in to kiss my neck. "It's okay. I know."

I tilt my head away and she moves up until she hits my sweet spot just behind my ear. I hum, enjoying the feeling of her here, unmarried, unmarked by another man. Even if she's marrying Rory, she's always going to be my Amelia. Even when she gets in bed with him every night, I'll think about her. 

"I'll miss you." She murmurs quietly, clinging to me as I sit up and tug her into my lap. Both of us are naked with our crotches pressed together, but to my surprise I don't get hard. I'm too broken.

"I'm going to miss you too, Amelia Pond." I choke up and press my head to her chest to hide my tears. "The adventures we've had. The memories we've made."

"I'll never forget you, you know."

"I'll always remember the days when you were mine," I promise her. 

"Now go on!" She pushes me weakly on the shoulder. "Run off, my raggedy man. Go have your adventures in the stars. But you be back for my wedding." She kisses my cheek and lays down. "Remember the fun we had together. Here, and in the TARDIS."

I see the tears welling in her eyes, and decide to make this quick. I couldn't be able to bear a goodbye kiss. So I take her hand in mine and kiss the top, smooth against my lips. I run my mouth over her knuckles and fingertips. I remember when these fingers were buried deep in my ass. Now they will never touch my skin intimately again. 

It hurts more than it should. But I survive and end up alone in the TARDIS again. I pat the control board and try to muster up a smile. "It's just us again, my dear." The TARDIS is unbearably silent without Amy banging things around and shouting or laughing. Even the TARDIS sounds quieter as I fly away from Amy's bedroom and head into deep space to sit and miss my Amelia and Rory Pond.


End file.
